Crayon Box

mango sticky sticky rice

2009-10-29T06:21:00.000-07:00

The husband and I spent the last 4 days in Bangkok. It was our first trip since the crayolas arrived in our lives. Our last trip, just 2 of us was in 2001. 8 years ago.

We did the usual Bangkok things. Shop, Thai massage, explore the poky lanes and buy cheap stuff. Didn't have to break the exercise routine coz there was a rocking swimming pool and gym in the hotel.

We had a night out with a Thai friend who showed us their home and way of life. In Bangkok, babies as young as 10 months old travel in the driver's seat. No seat belt. No car seat. The baby's mom even breastfed her kid while driving at the same time!

Anything goes in Bangkok. That's why its so refreshing.

Also I forgot how fun it is to get away. Just the 2 of us.

2009-10-25T07:10:00.000-07:00

First Sprint Tri

2009-09-14T00:42:00.001-07:00

Any person. Any age. Any fitness level. And a bike crash.

A year ago, I couldn't run more than 2 rounds of a track, swim more than 2 laps of a pool without stopping and cycling to me, was renting a bike at the east coast park.

No one understood why I wanted to do it. I couldn't explain it too. But I had thrown myself so completely outside of my comfort zone the past year, it didn't matter anymore.

I loaded up the car.

Turned up at the race.

And CRASHED.

It was the turning before the second loop of the bike route. I crashed on the bike taking the turn too quickly and landed on my helmet. My face and stomach hit a branch. My neck was sprained badly and I struggled to get up. The bike chain came off. A crowd gathered to see if I was ok and a guy helped me put back the bike chain. They asked me if I was ok? If I needed first aid? I was pretty dazed but found myself asking if the bike was ok? Could I stil ride it? They said yeah you can still ride it and I said I want to go on. As I wobbled up on the bike, the crowd which gathered around started to clap.

I didn't realise how bad I looked until I finished the race and people started looking at me sympathetically and offering me tissues and water. It was only when I looked at the car mirror that I realised my face was entirely streaked with mud and swollen from the fall. From the way I looked you would've guessed I did an adventure race through a jungle and fought a crocodile!

I didn't want to fall...it was my worst fear realised. The lowest low of my physical and mental limitations but if you had to ask me what the last year has been like and how it has changed me, this would've been the defining moment. The old Carrie would've quit but in trying and trying so hard the last year, I had rehearsed this a hundred times before. Falling down, picking myself up.

So when it came down to it, I knew what I had to do after the crash.

Dust the dirt off. No bones broken? Keep going.

2009-09-06T07:05:00.000-07:00

First 21

2009-08-20T13:58:00.000-07:00

Made it there just on time at 530. Started the first 1 or 2 km by following the pace of this girl who looked like she knew what she was doing but lost her on the incline at Sheares Bridge....By that time, i was thinking should I U turn? But it was too late! And there seemed to be no practical u turn points.

I had some sort of strategy to jog 9 minutes and walk 1 minute but the adrenaline of being with the crowd and the route march sounds of the pounding feet kept me going. I started walking a bit more after 10k. The U turn at East Coast Park seemed like it would never arrive but I saw the sun rise over the orangey tinted clouds....which was quite a beautiful sight.

Thought i would want to pee at the toilet stops at East Coast but by then, the urge to pee stopped. Has that happened to you? Want to pee, but lose that need to pee after you've sweated.

There was this guy who cut across my path suddenly causing me to trip and almost fall. Wanted to #$%^! at him but he ran off and I had no energy to yell at him.

The GOOD : It was quite well organised - I liked the stilt walkers and the drums. I tried to pysche myself that I was running and watching a street carnival. There were enough water stops and I had half a banana to eat at some point.

The BAD: sweaty army boys. Taking mrt home smelling like sweaty army boy.

The UGLY: There were some serious female runners I think who were aiming to run a fast 10k. They would CLAP very loudly if anyone got in their path and shove people aside. Very ugly.

What I found out about myself: I am a complete sucker for torture and pain! My legs felt like a ton after 15 km. But I sorta kept shuffling

Towards the last turn, with whatever i had, I tried to burst into a sprint. V tired but still pretend to finish strong.

Time 2:46

Going halfway

2009-08-15T00:18:00.000-07:00

Ok I've got the running bib for the ancient women's category and I will be flagging off at 5.30 am with a lot of sweaty army boys. The route starts at the Padang, down sheares bridge, to east coast park and back to the Padang.

To clear all thoughts from your mind that I am completely out of my mind, I give to you, the one reason why running has totally rocked my world.

After 11 months of doing this, I am 15 kgs lighter. 5 kgs is what a bag of rice weighs. Imagine the joy of movement on a frame which no longer carries those 3 bags of rice.

Will be taking it really slow by slow. Jog, walk and aim to enjoy and complete it. If I feel ill, I can always u turn. The way i see it, whether or not I complete, this the furthest I've ever got with moving my lazy ass.

No one asked me to do this. Its going to be really hard going and every step will be a fight against the urge to quit. But I'll be doing this for the fat girl, that I know so well:
- who signed up for her first 10 k 11 months ago,
- who embraced her size XL arms in an adidas clima cool running tank top,
- who had absolutely no idea how she would complete the distance.

And I can't quit on her now.

reading old posts

2009-04-02T07:39:00.000-07:00

I've had this blog since 2005. Its seen me through the darkest and happiest days and I've always had something to share. Lately, I've had less and less to say. With the gaps in the narrative, I dont know how to continue this story authentically. So I spent an hour today, reading old posts. Warmed by the comments I've received. Smiling at the stuff which used to bug me. Snapshots of my life with the crayolas when they were smaller and when everyday, was a big big adventure in this new thing, called motherhood.

I miss those days.

I miss being vulnerable and at once, more grateful for all the tiny blessings.

I miss posting with that level of intensity on this insignificant blogspot.

places we will not go together

2009-01-25T04:22:00.000-08:00

I've noticed that older married couples are ok about going on separate holidays. The husband goes overseas for a golfing trip, the wife goes to HK for a shopping trip with her girlfriends.

It comes with years of acknowledging the separateness of one's likes and dislikes and having a comfort level with that, I guess.

Since my fitness has improved and I agreed with my running friend that we would climb Kinabalu after our 10k, I've started to research into mountain climbing and places to go if you are into nature trails. There are so many beautiful untouched places if you are into that sort of thing.

I didn't know if Gary would go with me one day. So I asked. We had never talked about it before.

Me: I'm just asking to find out if there is a possibility of us going on an trekking holiday somewhere, like Nepal. The capital is Kathmandu right? SIA flies there direct.

Gary: .....

Me: If that's too much, how about Malaysia? Taman Negara.

Gary: As to the former, I will not enjoy the smell of horse manure. As to the latter, I do not fancy the idea of being bitten by mosquitoes. To add insult to injury, to pay good money to have to go through that!

LOL. I love it when he speaks his mind.

New Year's Eve

2008-12-31T00:02:00.001-08:00

Fish

In an hour, a good friend who is going away for 2 months is bringing her fish to me. Six fish with a bottom feeder. Just because I have kids, people assume I can take care of small creatures (not!). I tell her that I am really bad with fish and that they have very limited life span under my watch. That they will surely die and she must not feel bad or ask for them back. She tells me that its ok, its ok if they die and she will not feel bad. I don't know how this is any better than flushing them down the toilet but the fish will be delivered to me in an hour - the hospice for abandoned fish.

Cat Recollections

Obviously people have faith in my animal rearing ability despite my bad track record. Earlier in the year, my brother brings me his fat cat, Chloe because he is going to the States for 2 weeks for training. He arrives with a large litter box and a pack of dry food and snacks and a tshirt bearing his scent. Chloe runs under my sofa and pisses on his lap when he tries to comfort her. She is soo scared. For the next 2 weeks, Chloe pines for my brother in my house losing weight even though we lay out lots of food for her. I rationalise that the weight loss is healthy for her. 2 weeks passes by too slowly. My brother returns and as I watch her reunite (happy meows and affectionate purrings) and as she piles into the car with my brother...it is as tearjerking as seeing an orphaned child returned to her parents she thought were dead but were not actually.

Clearing out my wardrobe

I end the year with a happy story about my wardrobe. It was a big mess so I tried to organise it into neat piles today. Its funny how your wardrobe can tell you a story about what's happened in your year. I tried on my old pair of Levi's faded jeans which I couldnt fit in at the start of 2008 and due to running, it now fits. For a change I put aside clothes which had become too large instead of too small. I also packed in a neat pile, my new clothes - dri fit tops, running shorts, swimming cap.

That's just a reflection on what's on my mind today and also, I wanted to wish everyone who has been giving me encouraging comments and just being there, a very happy new year.

Postcript Jan 1 - one fish died today.

Mr Andrea Bocelli will you do house call?

2008-12-28T05:30:00.000-08:00

Mr Bocelli: And they lived happily ever after.
Elmo: Aw, that was a nice story.
Mr Bocelli: Hey Elmo, time to close your eyes and go to sleep.
Elmo: Aw, Mr Andrea Bocelli does Elmo have to?
Mr Bocelli: Elmo, we had a story, a song, its late and you must be slee-py.
Elmo: Elmo isn't sleepy. Elmo wants some water and another story. Elmo's eyes are open wide awake and Elmo doesn't feel so snory!

first 10k

2008-12-14T05:54:00.000-08:00

A strange out of body experience happened over the last 13 weeks. I got abducted by a UFO - the exercise aliens who switched my earthly body (which never went beyond 2.4km) for a new one.

Well, that’s what it feels like confronting the new me, who likes to run! If you had a camera panning how hard I trained the past few weeks, I would not recognize myself....but crossing that 10k finish on 7 December 2008 in that turquoise tank top size L and running shorts revealing my fair and meaty arms and legs, you only had to see in my sweat streaked face, that this was really, one of those moments which makes me want to break out into that theme song from Greatest American Hero.

As I ran, I thought about the female heroes who have lifted me at times when I was down - Jinn, my sister in the US who I am missing this Christmas and Min, my running partner who ran with me throughout this journey even though she's much faster.

My cheerleader and sporting apparel consultant who still looks great in tight jeans, Gary and the crayolas for providing the most compelling reason to get off my ass.

As well as the other sistas who have kept me inspired along the way.

And the plate of char kway teow at the end of the rainbow.

Sing with me!

Look at what's happened to me
I can't believe it myself
Suddenly I'm on top of the world
It should've been somebody else

Believe it or not
I’m walking on air
I never thought I could feel so free eee eee
Flying away on a wing and a prayer
Who could it be?
believe it or not, its just me! – Greatest American Hero

The painter and me

2008-11-02T04:10:00.000-08:00

A few months ago I looked up the ads in the paper to find a painter. I wanted to find a painter who would complete the job quickly, with pride and not cut any corners. Someone I could communicate with directly without having to go through a main contractor.

Poh, as he called himself was the quickest to respond. Within an hour of calling him to make an enquiry he turned up at my doorstep with a book of Nippon paint samples. He looked over 60 but he had the lean and leathery appearance of someone who had spent a lot of time working in the sun. He spoke to me with halting English and I tried to respond with halting Chinese. He told me that he had 17 years of experience, that he would complete the job with his brother and that he would start immediately by tomorrow. He would need an upfront payment to buy the paint and he would go buy it now. I was struck by the directness of his approach and gave him the payment. The next day, he turned up with the canisters of paint and started working. I was pleased that i had found someone so reliable.

The same evening, I turned up to inspect his work. He was shirtless and I was startled to see that he had tattoos over his back. These were not fashionable tattoos but old style Chinese gang tattoos which were crudely rendered and had turned the colour of jade over the passage of time. I wondered what sort of rough past he had but that was irrelevant now - he was working hard for honest pay. I felt an enormous welling of gratitude, offering to go out and get a packet of dinner for him. He must be hungry, working so long?

He accepted the offer for food, but stopped painting to say "Ms, I am going to ask you something but you can say no. I have a bungalow job in Katong. I need to pay for scaffolding. Can you advance me more?"

It didnt take me long to say yes. I wanted to support his work. I wanted to help him take on more jobs so I skipped down, got charsiew rice and made a withdrawal from the ATM. I gave him the money and he assured me that he would complete my painting job by the weekend. I told him that I was trusting him and he could not run away. He laughed "If i run away with this small piece of money, I would get knocked by a car, my whole family would get knocked by car".

The next day, I couldn't get Poh on the phone. I rang and rang to check on the progress of the job but there was no answer. Finally at the end of the day, I got him and he said that he was busy working "Very sorry Ms." He arranged to meet me on Saturday at the flat. He said he would discuss paint choices.

The rest of this story, it is painful retelling the details. The unanswered phone calls, the hours he made me wait without turning up, my elevated blood pressure. For someone I moved my trust in, beyond that of a stranger and represented whatever I wanted to see, goodness, honesty, a rugged old man struggling to make a living with his hands - he did a runner on me.

I went on to finish painting the flat with help from Delwa, my mom's condo gardener, a Bengladeshi who turned up when he said he would and never stated what he wanted...he accepted whatever I paid him whenever. It was Delwa basically who restored my faith.

Did i make a police report? No.

I let it go.

water bottle

2008-10-14T13:00:00.000-07:00

Someone who has lived only slightly more than 1000 days on earth has caught on to one of mommy's unhygenic tricks - bringing out 1 water bottle for the purpose of delivering water to 2 kids.

I have no qualms about letting them share a water bottle. After all, its just saliva and it saves me from carrying out 2 water bottles.

Carrying out water bottles I do not enjoy. They leak in your bag if you don't screw the cap tightly so 2 water bottles enhance the odds of water leakage. 2 bottles weigh more than 1, not bad enough you are carrying wet wipes, their enrichment textbooks and crumbly biscuits which have a tendency to become a collection of crumbs finding their way to corners of the bag.

I brought out 1 bottle on sunday and before Shane went to reading class, I gave him a swig...I never let him bring a bottle of water to class because he doesn't close the cap properly and i can always tell which enrichment bag belongs to my son even if you remove the name tag - it is the one with soggy textbooks and water dripping out of the corners. Like mother like son.

When Shane goes into reading class, I take this time to be with Alix. Routine always is:

1. see the live crabs at supermarket

2. shopping treat of the week - glico pocky or yen yen biscuits

3. one spin on the mechanised helicopter or train

4. go to v hive the furniture shop for free spin on the rotating office chairs

5. go to diy shop to look at strange looking tools

With all this activity, she got thirsty and I offered her water off the spout of the water bottle. It was her pink water bottle, the one she carries to nursery everyday.

Alix: I want water.

Me: Here.

Alix: I smell something.

Me:....

Alix: I smell ko ko shane.

Me: .....

Alix: It is ko ko shane saliva!!!

Her super sensitive nose detected the alien traces of saliva!!! So I started offering ways to placate her.

Me: I can wash it. [using tissue to wipe] see clean already?

Alix: Still smelly.

Me: It is not shane's saliva. It is MOMMY'S SALIVA!

Alix: I don't want mommy's saliva!

This went on and on for about 20 minutes. I considered letting her go thirsty but water is essential for survival. Factoring the cost of bottle of mineral water, the emotional cost of having her unhappy for the rest of the day and the possible impact of her refusing the saliva stained water bottle the next day in childcare (the place where children fend for themselves), I relented and let her buy another new water bottle.

In the hygiene battle, 3 year old wins:

Alix: 1

Mommy: 0

Jinn

2008-10-03T12:27:00.000-07:00

The only person who believed that I could run; made me believe that I could do it, was Jinn.

I got to know Jinn in Secondary 2. She was the skinny girl who ran fast during PE. In Secondary 3, we sat next to each other and found common ground ignoring classes in favour of acquiring real life skills.

When we were caught reading romance novels under the desk, she’d whisper to me:

Stop looking so guilty. If you stop looking so worried, you won’t get caught.

I never unschooled myself from that look of guilt but every so often, when my brows furrow with worry, I remember.

xxxxx

She was good at things that I was bad at - Art, Chinese and singing the latest hits; though she never made me feel inferior. She’d look at my still life of a watermelon and laugh. Trying her best to make me feel better, she'd say

Even if I tried really hard, I could never draw like you!

She never corrected my badly worded Chinese compositions because she thought it was pure art that someone could assassinate the Chinese language the way I did.

And when it came down to singing the latest hits, I never had to sneak the radio into class because she was my live feed. Fans of the hottest pop channel back then, Zoo 101.6, we gave ourselves animal DJ names – Jinn Jaguar and Carrie Cougar. We spent many hours pretending to be radio DJs, anything to escape the oppression of being 16 and spending most of your day in a classroom.

She excelled in places I never went, making it to the school team and running competitively in the 100m and 200m sprints. Naturally, she was nominated the sports captain of our class but very unnaturally, she asked me to be her sports assistant.

We’ll just plan for sports day and take lots of time off to go stadium ok?

Ok.

As sports day approached, the slots for the short distance sprints filled up, but there were 2 glaring empty slots which no one wanted to volunteer for.

The 1500m race.

She persuaded me to run it with her. She told me we’ll just go there and try not to be last.

But I can’t run!!!

No, you can. We’ll be ok.

I only did it because she was my friend. We turned up on the day of the race, with zero preparation and late. There was only enough time to drop our skirts and dash along the track in our shorts.

I never stopped to look behind, but when I crossed the finish line, it was never discussed what position I came in…we had done the race! With aching thighs, we had no more energies to make it back to school so we went to watch Rainman.

xxxxx

We went to different JCs. She joined the JC athletics team. I joined the choir. She had several boyfriends and I had just one. On my 21st birthday, she gave me a painting depicting both of us, with full chests. I knew immediately that I was the one with the guitar and she was the one with the long cigarette.

When I went to university overseas, we exchanged a few letters. Most of my letters contained pleas to her to PLEASE USE CONTRACEPTION!

There was always something dangerous and reckless about her choices, but I never stopped her. I just didn’t know how to. In fact, I got sucked in.

We were 21 - the legal age to do things without parental consent. She wanted to marry a guy that she met several months before. Her parents would not approve it right now. Would I be her witness at the ROM? I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do but I couldn’t say no.

You will tell them when they’re ready to accept it yes?

Yes. Yes.

And so I just went along and we never told her parents. Do I regret doing that now?

Yes. Yes.

xxxxx

Just as Jinn’s life seem fully sorted out – she enrolled in a course at the polytechnic, got married to a guy who seemed fully committed to her, something happened which made her stop running. Which crashed not only her life but also the shape of our friendship.

I was 24, working in the law firm late. My first job. The phone call came in. Jinn is in the intensive care. She got hit by a motorcycle crossing the road.

At the intensive care unit, I saw my best friend – fighting for her life.

As time passed, I saw less and less of her husband who was with her when the accident happened. He was very caring at first, made journals of their love, drew her pictures of the past but after some time, he annulled the marriage and disappeared from her life.

In a way, I also disappeared - into my own life. I got myself out of the law firm only to start making new plans for myself. Get married. Travel. Start a family.

This is where it broke down. Realising that I can’t really get back Jinn - not the Jinn who meets me at the burger king in Holland Village wearing her Air Maxes and showing off her muscular calves from all the running she’s done. I couldn't face it so I hardly ever called, visited less and less. It seemed cruel to tell her about my life and the plans I was making. Did she even know me fully? Would she remember?

xxxxx

After some time, years, I received greeting cards from Jinn. Her right hand was no good but she had regained her ability to write with her left hand.

I love you!!!

It was left handed scrawl but the handwriting was the same and she had drawn hearts!

Still, something had crashed inside myself.

Harder to accept than not getting Jinn back was getting Jinn (back with full mental faculties) without the use of her legs. Her rich voice, which was the sweetest sound, was now a shallow whisper.

xxxxx

Jinn was really, the only person that could make me run so it really caught me by surprise that I’ve started to WANT to run again. Slow steps on the treadmill and then my first jog/walk on the open road. And now training for my first 10k in December.

I’ve always been shy about running in the open because I get breathless so fast. Neither do I have a 15 year old heart or the structure of a lean bird, but something has been lifting me beyond my limits and it would have to be Jinn.

Telling me that I can do it.

That its ok to persist against the pain.

To take that worried look off my face.

To be grateful that I can.

Through running comes a sweet relief against the fatigue, fear and breathlessness ….we’re on the track again, hearts ablaze and the only way to run the race is to keep going.

music education and why wear grass skirts according to G

2008-09-21T12:17:00.000-07:00

So I just got myself a uke, inspired to learn how to play it after watching the awesomeness of what the legendary Israel Kamakawiwo Ole could do with this 4 string instrument in his hands.

I learnt some basic chords (off youtube again) and starting showing off my new skills to Gary.

G: Too fast. Slower. No, slower.
Me: So slow already.
G: You know why you have to play slow right?
Me: ....
G: The ukulele is from Hawaii and you know, Polynesians they sit at the beach and they play it really slow.
Me: ok
G: You know why?
Me: Because they are chill. Because they are at the beach!
G: No, not really.
Me: Then why?
G: They have to make the song LAST LONG. All day long, there is not much to do. So they make the song last as long as possible.
Me: ....
G: They also wear grass skirts. You know why?
Me:?
G: Grass skirts mean no laundry. They don't even have to do laundry!

No one (not even youtube) does a better job explaining such things.

one can miss mountains

2008-09-05T17:56:00.000-07:00

From the May 12 issue of the New Yorker

ONE CAN MISS MOUNTAINS

and pine. One

can dismiss
a whisper's

revelations
and go on as

before as if
everything were

perfectly fine.
One does. One

loses wonder
among stores

of things.
One can even miss

the basso boom
of the oceans's

rumpus room
and its rhythm

A man can leave
this earth

and taken nothing
---not even

longing---along with him.

By Todd Boss

little star

2008-07-01T14:28:00.000-07:00

Pointing his finger at the date of my last post, he says "you haven't blotched". Despite the lack of posts, one of the most faithful followers of this blotch, remains my husband. He's seen me through my worst self, adult acne, different dress sizes and he's still there. After 10 years of marriage and 17 years being together.

I marvel at this. I marvel at how anyone makes that decision to remain with one person for the rest of their life and remain true to that commitment.

The year was 1998. That year, Madonna had just given birth to Lourdes and she sang a sweet song about her called Little Star. I remember how he sang it to me all the time that year. And hearing that song again, I recall now, how I actually did it. Get married. He assured me that all he needed me to be, was me.

Never forget who you are, little star.
Never forget how to dream, butterfly.

videographic evidence of the surrogacy of the crayolas

2008-05-25T04:18:00.000-07:00

Did they bring them out again? THEY DID!

My brother and girlfriend brought the crayolas out again. This time, to plaza sing where they debauched on milk shakes, happy meal toys and a visit to the bear making workshop.

how i started juggling and why i'm just passing it on

2008-05-02T16:49:00.000-07:00

I am completely obsessed about colourful flying objects but it wasn't always that way.

Juggling was one of those things that I was interested in, but i never seriously thought I could do it. With 'no balls' to try it, it took a push from someone and a cold and wet winter to get the obsession going for colourful flying objects.

Juggling has brought me so many hours of fun. It has has never advanced my career, brought me closer to material success and lots of people think its clownish. I just smile to myself knowing that - I must really love doing this. That's why.

So, I recently ordered a new set of juggling balls and ordered another set for a friend who told me she was interested and appended this note.

A true story about how I started juggling - which reminded me why it feels so good, to get a new set of balls and to be able to pass it on.

===============

Hi M

When i was a first year student in cold and wet England, I was stuck inthe hall of residence (a very gothic and old manor) over the christmas break. Most of the residents returned back to their homes so I was one ofthe very few who lurked around the hall.

I had no phone or tv and very little money. Staying in hall was quite spooky so i started hanging out with a malaysian guy. We were both from ACJC and he lived in an adjacent hall of residence. He was a quirky fellow and we didnt talk much but we started hanging out to overcome the loneliness of the being in Bristol over christmas. Most of the time he was juggling.

After some time, I thought it would be cool to try it out but I never had it in me to get a set of juggling balls,because i felt that i was too uncoordinated. I really thought that it would be one of those things that I try and fail.

One uneventful December day, in what felt like an unending December month,he passed me 3 oddly shaped juggling balls.

These are for you. they are marked with a cross because they're defects. I got them for a quid each.

I started juggling from that day, spending many hours and days learning the 3 ball cascade. Althought defective, they fit perfectly in my hand. They were made for me. I would have never started juggling if he never pressed those juggling balls on me.

So, guess what....

Since you indicated the last time that you were interested in juggling, please allow me to pass on to you a really gorgeous green and white panelled set of juggling balls of identical design and weight to the ones I started with. I had these ordered and shipped from England (i needed to get myself a new set too).

sofa mom

2008-04-13T00:36:00.001-07:00

The crayolas are asleep, there are dishes unwashed in the sink and I have an hour before they wake up.

I've spent the past 2 weeks at home fulfilling the function which is Grace without the crabbiness encumbent with coming back from the workplace everyday. I pictured myself actualising life with 30 minutes of cardio everyday, going to yoga and baking classes in between day time television while the crayolas were off at daycare. None of that actualised really. I went for one trial session of Hatha at True Yoga and didn't like it. After that, the nightmare ensued. The sales consultant kept calling and I had to alternate between ignoring his calls and blowing him away politely. Truth is, I make a really bad yoga mom. The only yoga pose which i like doing is the one I do at home called 'the tv recline' with a bag of chips, watching all 27 episodes of the last season of Grey's Anatomy.

What troubled me was this. Being at home, really feels like better mothering. I mean, just being there at all times whenever they need you. The simple act of gathering and preparing each morsel of food which enters their tiny mouths and feeding them with the methodical care of a mommy bird who brings worms for her little ones. There is nothing quite like the satisfaction of watching them open their mouths for more.

I thought I'd tire of it. The thing is, as my leave ends in 3 days, I too want more. The house is dirtier. The clothes are not ironed but I will really miss this.

Because

2008-03-21T09:42:00.000-07:00

my OS keeps committing suicide 10 minutes after I start doing anything related to the internet.

Because Grace has been off for the last 2 weeks. Vamoosed to the Phillipines.

Because I really don't know how to fix my computer and my brothers who built it feel zero urgency to repair it.

Posting has been sporadic and dried up much like the plants which I am supposed to be watering every other day.

I have belated posts. Cactus chatter will return soon.

play the guitar, write songs, make pie!

2008-03-16T00:33:00.000-07:00

I received an email from my brother's girlfriend, L. An offer to take them out.

Herbert and I would be happy to take Shane and Alix in exchange for your uninterrupted afternoon/evening 'me' time. :) So, let us know! Go read, play the guitar, write songs, make pie!

As the day rolled by, I told the crayolas that their uncle and je je would bring them out for FUN. Shane was so excited he refused to take his afternoon nap. He kept opening his eyes asking for "when will uncle Herbert come and the fun start?". They did come. This was their first time taking them out by themselves. I had no words, no words to describe to my 32 year old brother - how challenging this could be. It would be best if they just experienced it for themselves.

"There is a sweater in Alix's bag and I put on a diaper to be safe!"

With those words of assurance, I left them holding the babies.

============

I kept checking my phone but received no calls during the first hour, second and even the third. Boy, they're good at this! At about 8 pm, L calls telling me that Alix is crying. She hands the phone to Alix who is sobbing into the receiver.

"We just sat down for dinner, but suddenly Alix started to cry. I don't know what's wrong, I've asked her. I also brought her to toilet."

"She's probably tired and wants to go home."

"OH"

They were experiencing their first taste of TODDLER MELTDOWN.

I wasn't home when they got back so we didn't get a chance to talk. Next day, I receive another email. They crammed in a day more than what Gary and I could have crammed in a month! This was one trippy trip but I'm keeping this email forever, because it is pure love and self sacrifice when someone offers to take your kids out for a day they and I will never forget.

Unlike me, my brother's girlfriend found the words, the words to describe the experience. They spared no expense in making them happy. Alix was given her first barbie and I now know, why ever since the outing - she stops at the ladies section and gazes extra long at the high heel shoes.

=====

I believe Herbert's conclusive words were: I have a new-found respect for Carrie.

The day started out great - we read 'Mog's Missing' in the car. Apart from my very poor enacting of "GULP", I think they liked the story. We had trouble finding parking at the theatre but we got settled in quickly once we got them their own copies of every brochure, flyer, programmer booklet and pen. When the show started, I thought Alix looked a little uncomfortable - she was wiggling about on the cushion seat on the floor, and kept looking up at me. I asked if there's something wrong but she didn't say anything so I pointed out the glowing puppets and kept her attention on the stage. When her discomfort became more obvious, I asked if she wanted to go outside for a while and she said yes. We went out and she admitted that she was afraid of the dark (and perhaps the glowing clown). I read her the story of Circo Korjak from the programme booklet, hoping to entice her with the story and getting her involved with the plot since she has such a fondness for reading and fables. I asked if she wanted to go back in to see Olej become a magician and she said no, so we gathered our things and we headed down Cairnhill to look for a cab.

She was very cooperative and compliant - made no protest at the long walk or even the terrible long wait (30mins). She even helped me hail a cab. We went to Paragon and she was excited about all the bright shops and shiny things and we looked at jewellery and shoes (I showed her what a high-heeled shoe is, as we were talking about the different charms on her Barbie bracelet; we later spotted a rose and a crown). We then sat down for a chocolate oreo milkshake and she was very happy about it. She ran around in the open lobby of Paragon until Herbert and Shane came by to pick us up after the performance ended.

From Herbert's account of the event, Shane was clamouring all over him but was overall, engaged with the performance. They even showed a 'behind-the-scenes' segment,demonstrating the use of puppets and how the entire performance was staged. Shane even got an autograph from the performer!

We were heading to United Square but somehow ended up at Novena Square. It was probably this detour and anti-climatic discovery that we were at the wrong place, coupled with the extra driving etc., that contributed to the kids' fatigue by the time we sat down for dinner. We had a quick energy perk by letting the kids pick out some sweets for themselves before heading to Toys R Us. As we passed a clothing store, I asked Alix if she wanted to look at dresses first before toys, and she said yes. We went to our respective gender-specific sections and allowed the kids to pick out what they wanted. Here, Herbert and I operate very differently. :) He tells Shane that he can choose clothes that are not too expensive, so Shane went about looking at all the price tags first, then eliminated his choices by size. He doesn't show any disgruntlement when something he chooses isn't in his size, he merely tosses it away and looks for another. He saw the pants and said "I want camouflage!".

Alix shows such maturity for her age. She helped me fold the clothes back and put them on the shelf, and is very decisive about her preferences. I would take things off the shelf to show her and if she likes it, she'd insist on seeing if it fits her first. "It fits me", she will declare
before saying okay to getting an item. The only item she independently chose was the salmon-pink top with brown lace.

We went to Toys R Us and again, gave them free reign to choose their items. Alix immediately chose the Barbie with the tiara because of the book you got her I'm sure and she was very excited about listening to the CD. Herbert gave Shane a budget of $20 so whenever he saw something above that price, he would fling it aside with disgust. We are still unsure of Shane's
fixation with 'orange juice man'.

Dinner was (supposedly) at Globetrotters and everything was going well with getting the kids prepped to enter the Play Area. Alix was waiting for Shane to have his shoes and socks removed (we had some difficulty with negotiation over 'orange juice man' albeit appealing to 1) logic: you need both hands to climb up and down the play gyms; 2) security: I promise we'll take care of 'orange juice man' because he's only going to get more broken if he's in there or even, lost! 3) deceit: there is a regulation against taking outside toys in).

Somewhere in this hash session that Alix started to rub her head, cock her ear to her shoulder, squirmed about and started crying. We couldn't get her to tell us what was wrong because she acted like she was in pain, and when I asked if she wanted to go to the bathroom, she nodded. Once there, there was no activity and she cried more, so I asked if it's a tummyache, and she said yes, so I thought she was shy and said I would wait outside. When I checked on her, she said she was done even though she didn't do anything. I have very little experience with children so I said "Alix, I really like you and I think you're such a good girl and you've been so great today. And I really want to help you so I'm going to ask you a few questions okay? Are you in pain?" etc but I guess when she gets in that zone, she closes up. Her distress was so terrifying (for me) so I suggested that we go back out to call you, so she can tell you what is wrong, and in turn, you can interpret her cries for me.

You were right though - she did want to go home. The sudden onset is mystifying but I suppose their impulse control is very limited during their formative years and when something becomes a priority, it is hard to lose focus, or fast. She was now wailing in the restaurant, and by some stroke of luck, 'orange juice man' was no longer a problem and Shane was in the Play Area making friends. We ordered the Bob's Pizza (kids make their own pizza) and a fish and chips to share, but seeing how it was, we got the waiter to make their pizza instead and bag everything. I reassured Alix that we were going home to eat pizza and we did the activity sheets and puzzles, which stopped the crying. Shane was adamant against leaving once he saw that we were bagging the food so we bought Shane some more play time. Then I brought Alix to the Story Book corner and we read a story about an enormous turnip. Alix was still getting teary sporadically so Shane was really nice about leaving eventually, and saying goodbye to all his new friends.

We stopped for Ben & Jerry's (Shane chose chocolate and Alix chose Strawberry) and I guess that was the clincher. She brightened up immediately and we packed into the car singing Pearly Shells.

Thanks for letting us take them out, Carrie, and I'm sorry about Alix's distress. On the whole, they really are quite a joy and I guess this teaches us that fatigue plays an important part in their enjoyment and we should have been more aware of that.

Sorry about the long mail, but I thought you'd like to know how their day went. :)

5 and 3

2008-02-03T04:22:00.001-08:00

The crayolas turned 5 and 3 this week. Their birthdays follow a day after each other. The only reason they do not share the same birthdate is that our obgyn didn't want to conduct a csection on a Sunday in 2005.

In the time it took to conduct 2 emergency c sections (ie 1 hr), we whizzed into their classrooms bringing cake and goodie bags. As they cut their cakes, I recalled the slice which brought them into the world. Seeing them grow never ceases to amaze me. I purposely stood away as they cut their cakes - no longer attached to the umbilicus - they are autonomously - human beings in their own right. Capable of independent thought and action.

Seeing the cute faces and happy expressions of their classmates made me want to barf with the sentimentality of it all, because I am switching preschools in 2 weeks time after 5 years in the present one. The crayolas don't know it yet. Like all changes that are introduced into their lives, this is not their call. Its mine. There is the uncertaintyventuring into this unknown. Wondering whether you're really doing the right thing for them and hoping against wrecking their lives in the process.

The past few weeks have been a conflict of emotions. I've been asked to go overseas for 5 nights as part of training. I said yes but as the day approaches, i feel like barfing again. I can't bear being apart from the crayolas. Part of me, still wants to transplant them back into my stomach again. One day, they will slice away all dependance on me. But right now, 5 nights away from them feels like a csection all over again. A major surgical procedure and painful one.

pass the donut please

2008-01-09T04:48:00.001-08:00

Was it all the festive feasting?

Or was it my sis in law's snap into her pre pregnancy figure 3 months after delivery?

Or was it just wanting to recapture that first flush of being young and in love?

(this is really an excuse to post photos of my bro's new gf. In her hand, she is holding a vodka bottle.)

I slept in for the countdown this year and woke up on new year's day with an

uncontrollable
instatiable
craving for

A DONUT..

Huh, huh that wasnt actually too far from the truth.

It must have been new year madness, but I wanted to get me a treadmill. Yup, one of those things that you overpay for then slowly watch it become a very bulky clothes hanger.

I found something off ebay. Something which was going off at a steal because the guy who had it, stopped using it. While we negotiated the price, he petted his belly to prove to me that it hardly been used.

My wife bought it for me 6 monts ago so that I would lose weight, but as you can see I did not lose any weight.

Its arriving in 2 days time, then I'll provide you with live updates on whether the spirit or fleshy flesh prevails. Worst case situation it becomes another one of those failed new year resolutions which find its way to Cash Converters.

In the bleak midwinter

2007-12-26T09:37:00.000-08:00

I've been a fan of Corrine May ever since I saw her play her songs live in Gloria Jeans cafe in Holland Village in 2002. You might be over Christmas but this song is so intimately expressed, it puts you right in that coffeeshop where she's playing. There is something very comforting about being in a toasty cafe on a cold wet winter's day. While the cars buzz outside, inside - its calm and peaceful.

Watch her perform live at her neighbourhood Peets Coffee where she sips tea and writes song daily.